


Unfinished Otasune Thing

by wheatstuff



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Jupiter Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheatstuff/pseuds/wheatstuff
Summary: this is an otasune thing i started writing like a year ago and never finished, and i have no plan to finish it but i figured i may as well post if for people who want some short fluffy gay shit. i dont remember what the plot was lmao
Relationships: Otacon/Solid Snake
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Unfinished Otasune Thing

**part 1**

“Mr. Emmerich, please have a seat.” The principal gestured to an empty office chair on the opposite side of the desk. The chair next to it, in a state of equal disrepair, was occupied by one Sunny Gurlukovich, who wouldn't look up to meet Hal's gaze.

“Please, call me Dr. Emmerich,” Hal replied. Today, he didn't quite look the part—his hair was a mess and he wore an old hoodie over an  _ Evangelion _ t-shirt, in a stark contrast to the principal's controlled professionalism. It wasn't a look that said 'MIT graduate at 25’. This showed, as the principal raised an eyebrow at the correction.

“Well then,  _ Doctor  _ Emmerich,” she continued, “I'm sorry we had to call you in today, but there are matters we need to discuss.” As she spoke, her eyes darted down to Sunny, still refusing to look up from the floor. “Your… daughter?”

“Niece.”

“Of course.” She adjusted her glasses. “Your niece has had some difficulties fitting in with our school environment. Specifically, she still needs to learn to use her words.”

Hal, oblivious as ever, had no clue what this meant. Was she talking about Sunny's stutter? “I'm sorry, ma’am, I don't quite understand what you're trying to say here.”

The principal sighed, and turned to the girl in the other chair. “Sunny, why don't you tell your uncle what you did today?” Her voice was softer when addressing Sunny, like the voice Dave used when he talked to his dogs.

Sunny didn't respond. Instead, she pulled her legs closer to her body and rested her chin on her knees. Hal gave her an uncertain pat on the back. “It's okay, Sunny. You can tell me.”

Then, she spoke, so quiet Hal couldn't hear a word of it. She looked up at her uncle with round, sad eyes, like she was about to burst into tears. Hal prayed to whatever deity there was that she wouldn't.

“C-could you speak up, Sunny?” He asked. Sunny looked back down at her feet, playing with her laces.

She swallowed. “I got in a f-fight.”

“You  _ what _ ?” Hal almost fell over in his chair. He stared at Sunny, incredulous, then at the principal, and then at Sunny again. Had he misheard her? A fight? “But why?” He asked, leaning down and ignoring the principal. 

“Th-they were making—were making fun of th-the way I talk,” she replied, her voice almost at a whisper again. Hal could've sworn he saw tears starting to form. “S-so I hit them. And th-they hit—they hit back.”

He sighed, any possible anger he had disappearing. “Oh, Sunny,” he said. “Oh, I'm so sorry.”

And then, to Hal's surprise, Sunny bridged the gap between the two of them, reaching over and clasping her arms around him. For a moment, Hal almost pulled back, before he realized what she was doing—hugging him. Her kind of apology, he supposed. He hugged her back.

The principal cleared her throat, and Sunny pulled away, curling back into her defensive ball from earlier. “Dr. Emmerich? If you please, we need to discuss the matter of your niece's punishment—”

“Wait, wait,  _ punishment _ ? But they were bullying her!” Unbelievable. He knew the public school system was difficult, but this was unexpected.

Again, the principal sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yes, Dr. Emmerich, we'll be handling the other students in time, but we're here to discuss Sunny. Physical violence is strictly prohibited, even in cases like these. We'll speak to the others about their behavior, but Sunny must also understand that she needs to use her words,” she said.

“Oh, I think she understands that perfectly well,” Hal replied, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. “Maybe if your school kept a better eye on those kids, she wouldn't have to defend herself in the first place!”

It then occurred to Hal just how odd the situation at hand was. Hal Emmerich, lead designer of Metal Gear REX, founding member of Philanthropy, partner-in-crime of Solid Snake, was getting upset at a beleaguered elementary school principal over his adopted niece's behavior at school. And it wasn't even a  _ nice _ elementary school. The office felt as exhausted as the woman on the other side of the desk. There was paint chipping near the ceiling, and the AC rattled so much Hal was about ready to just fix it himself. Just about the only nice thing in the office was the desk itself, which looked to be mahogany, and quite old. An heirloom, perhaps, with detailed carvings and small imperfections that could only indicate the work of a human hand. Hal was impressed, even when outraged.

This time, the principal did not respond, instead opting to just bury her face in her hands and rest her elbows on the piles of paperwork strewn about the desk. Hal shifted in his seat, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then deciding against it. Sunny just looked at the door.

“You can go now, Dr. Emmerich,” she said after a considerable span of awkward silence. Somewhere in her words, there was an unspoken  _ please _ tacked on. Standing up a little too fast, Hal thanked the woman for her time and almost knocked his chair over in the process. He grabbed Sunny by the hand and lead her out of the office, hoping he wouldn’t have to return any time soon.

That could’ve gone better.

***

The car ride back was nothing if not awkward. Hal couldn’t tell who was more nervous—him or Sunny. She looked out the window, watching the suburbs roll by, still avoiding eye contact with her uncle. He hoped it was clear he wasn’t mad at her. Not even disappointed.

Worried. He was just worried. This was new to him. Sure, he’d panicked during missions, prayed to God Dave was okay during those life-or-death moments, felt the fear anyone caught up in Dave’s wild family battles felt—but this fussy, parental concern was untested waters. How much was too much? His own father never worried over him.

Hal’s memories of his dad were all the same. A despondent husk of a man staring at him through smudged glasses, mumbling something about his mother every now and then. For most of his life, that’s how he assumed fathers were. Detached men, there to observe growth before leaving forever. Sometimes, he wondered if he was just a machine.

It wasn’t like Dave had it easier, either. He was a military man through and through, skipping between foster homes and leaving for the army as soon as he could. His childhood was all structure, all drilling and sparring and rules. Big Boss, his own father (or genetic donor, Hal supposed) was nothing more than another member of the top brass issuing orders. Until that order was his death.

They must’ve been the two least qualified men to raise a child. And yet, here Hal was, worrying over what to make for dinner and if Sunny would have any bruises.

“We’re going to have to tell Snake, you know,” he said, breaking the silence. They were almost home.

“Yeah.” Sunny slumped down in her seat. 

Hal sighed. “Please make sure your seatbelt stays on, okay?”

**part 2**

Chicken soup was on the menu again. It was one of the few dishes Hal knew he could make without burning anything. Sunny cooked more often than he did, but it seemed unfair to make her do the work after how her day had gone. She sat at the table in the kitchen, kicking her legs back and forth. They still didn’t reach the ground, even when she sat up straight. Even though her homework was out in front of her, she wasn’t paying attention to it at all—instead, she was watching Hal in the kitchen, eying him with the same nervous look he’d given her earlier that day. It was obvious she still didn’t trust his cooking after the last time he made dinner.

He remembered Dave still eating the burnt chicken, smiling and saying it was delicious even when Sunny pushed it away. This time, he wanted to make something they’d all eat. Maybe it would soften the blow of the news.

Four packs of ramen noodles would be enough for all three of them. Probably. Before Philanthropy, Hal had eaten his weight in the stuff almost every day. Dave’s eating habits hadn’t been much better, but together, they’d managed some semblance of a normal diet. Now, as Hal was sliding cut up vegetables from the bowl to the broth, the door opened, and in came Dave once again.

It was only a one story house, but it was still roomier than anything Hal was used to. The garage door opened up right into the kitchen, so Hal saw his partner—no, no,  _ husband _ —as soon as he entered, turning around to greet him. Noticing Hal at the stove, Dave raised an eyebrow.

“Is it a special occasion today?” He asked, taking his coat off. Dave walked over to the stove, gave Hal a small kiss on the cheek, and looked into the pot. From her seat at the table, Hal heard Sunny make a small  _ ‘ew’ _ , the same way she did whenever she saw couples kiss on TV.

Hal felt himself flush a bit, or maybe it was just the steam rising from the pot. “Wh—? No, no, I just thought I’d try making something again tonight, since, you know, Sunny cooks so much, I thought maybe she’d like a break.”

“Looks like you managed not to burn it this time.” 

“I know how to cook ramen noodles, Snake.” Hal pushed his face away from the pot and stirred again, the steam rising and fogging up his glasses. Dave opened the cabinet behind him, getting out bowls and utensils for the three while Hal finished the soup. They fell into a routine, dodging each other as they moved through the tiny kitchen like they were so used to. In moments like these, there wasn’t a difference between the old Philanthropy days and these new, quiet weeks that made up their lives now. Only a few minutes (though it didn’t even feel that long) passed before the soup was ready, and as Hal and Dave sat down to eat, the room fell silent and the dinner became awkward. No one spoke, not even Dave, who was always quick to tell Hal about his day. It was like he could sense that something was amiss, and after so many years together, Hal wouldn’t have been surprised if they managed to establish some kind of psychic link. He hid behind the large frames of his glasses, not wanting to look Dave straight on in case he figured out what happened.

Then, unable to take the silence any longer, Hal cleared his throat. “Sunny, do you have something you want to tell Snake?”

Sunny looked at him, her face a mixture of confusion and betrayal. Maybe she thought she’d be off the hook because Hal was in a good mood now that Dave was home. Part of him wanted to cut her some slack, but he knew parenting also required teaching responsibility. Well, he was pretty sure it did. That’s what all the books said.

“About school?” He gestured with his spoon towards Dave, who was slurping down noodles at an unprecedented pace when he looked up, also confused by what Hal was saying.

She put her spoon down and looked at her feet. “O-oh. Uh, I got in a—in a f-fight today. At school.” As she spoke, Sunny seemed to shrink, trying to make herself as small as she could. This was the first time she’d ever gotten in trouble at school, and Hal could tell she had as much trouble trying to predict Dave’s reaction as he did. Disappointment? Anger? Both? Neither?  
They watched him from the other side of the table, leaning in closer like they were watching a movie. Hal always loved the way Dave furrowed his brow when he thought. It reminded him of the way he used to scowl all the time. At least nowadays he was a little more relaxed.

After an almost unbearable amount of time, Dave spoke. “Uh. Did you win?”

“Dave!” Hal almost dropped his spoon into his soup. He wasn’t looking at Sunny, but he could hear her sigh with relief.

“What?” Dave replied. “If she’s gonna be getting in fights, she may as well be winning them while she’s at it.” He gestured over to Sunny again. “Did you win?”

Sunny smiled, all her nervous energy evaporating. “Y-yeah,” she said, “b-but they told on me.”

“Means they’re scared of you, then,” Dave said in between bites of noodles.

Hal groaned, his exhaustion peeking through. “Don’t encourage her, Dave! What happens if she gets expelled?”


End file.
